


The Consequences of Protecting Prince Arthur

by A_Thousand_Worlds_of_Mine



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Anxiety, Arthur Is Not An Idiot, BAMF Merlin (Merlin), Betrayal, Crying, Druid Merlin (Merlin), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fear, Hiding Emotions, Lies, M/M, Magic Revealed, Mentions of Death, Nightmares, Pining, Protective Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Protective Merlin, no beta we die like men, talking about feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:14:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23692177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Thousand_Worlds_of_Mine/pseuds/A_Thousand_Worlds_of_Mine
Summary: "There was nothing Merlin wouldn't do for Arthur, whether to serve or to save the prince."Even when the things he does for Arthur leaves him with night terrors. Night terrors he doesn't let anyone but Gaius know about. Especially not Arthur. But not telling Arthur means avoiding hunting trips and long trips to the border. Maybe it hurts Arthur's feelings, to think that Merlin is avoiding him. So he plans a few days long trip with Merlin. As for Merlin, well, it isn't as though he can avoiding sleeping for the entire time.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 42
Kudos: 447





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There are three things that are important to note.  
> One, I used an OTP Prompt Generator for this. "Person A can tell that Person B is having a nightmare because they're making weird noises/motions in their sleep, so Person A wakes them up and asks them if they are okay."  
> Two, I have no beta. Have no shame in ripping apart my comma usage and grammar in the comments. It's for the best.  
> Three, I am American and have no friends I could ask to Brit-pick this. I won't even attempt to Brit-pick this myself for fear of inconsistency.  
> There is one minor thing to note.  
> I have not posted fanfic since my middle school years, and that was quite some time ago. Please give me some feedback on my writing. I will kneel at the feet of those not afraid to give constructive criticism or praise.

There was nothing Merlin wouldn't do for Arthur, whether to serve or to save the prince. He'd not been certain of that when he'd first become Arthur's manservant, but years at his side had assured Merlin that he would be nothing if not loyal. Whether loyalty meant polishing every last scratch from Arthur's breastplate or preventing Arthur's death at the hands of whichever scorned sorcerer had it out for Pendragon blood this time. Merlin never wavered at Arthur's side. He didn't bat an eye at putting himself in harm's way or using magic a little less than carefully. It was all worth it for Arthur. It was worth everything. All the times he managed to earn a goblet thrown at his head in Arthur's chambers, all the afternoons spent mucking out the stables, the new rumor around the castle that he spent a worrisome amount of time at the Rising Sun. All that was nothing Merlin couldn't handle. He'd still be up before dawn to get Arthur's breakfast ready and assure nothing in Camelot was awry.

The only part of his life at Arthur's side that he couldn't handle was the nightmares. Merlin hated reliving his less than proud moments. Moments in which he had had to kill or harm for Arthur. He hated having to face the times in the cells or when he'd nearly been in a pyre. He'd never go back and change those moments as they were absolutely necessary, but he hated revisiting them every night. It started with small nightmares that would have him waking with a startle and looking to light the candle at his bedside. It had been after Merlin had pulled Arthur from the gates of Avalon. In his dream, Arthur had been below the water, and Merlin was unable to pull him from the murky grasp. 

Every time he or Arthur stood at death's door was branded in his mind. Each time Merlin brought harm to another, a new dark thread wove its way into Merlin's dreams. He tried not to let them bother him. They weren't every night, and they weren't always enough to jolt him from sleep, but as the months piled into years, Merlin had more and more incidents to suffer through once more in his sleep. What had once been just slight startles stirring him had transformed into terrible things that had him twisting in his bed so fiercely that he often awoke ensnared in his sheets like a trap. There also came nights when he'd bolt up with a spell half-formed on his lips or calling out for Arthur in the dark hours of the morning. Nights were he woke Gaius up with his fitful cries before his body woke him up. Even when Gaius offered sleeping draughts as he'd given Morgana. Whether out of fear or self-punishment, Merlin refused with the excuse he couldn't chance oversleeping and upsetting Arthur.

Merlin didn't always handle it well. Sometimes he wouldn't get back to sleep after his night terrors and spent the day sluggish and even clumsier than normal. He tended to upset Arthur more than normal on those days. More than once he'd ruined a hunt by tripping over a branch he was too bleary-eyed to see. Once, he'd dropped the prince's breakfast on the way up to his chambers and had to go all the way back to the kitchens and get a fresh plate, which had made him late and gotten him yelled at. Not that he would ever admit to Arthur why he was growing clumsier with each passing month, or why he was avoiding overnight hunting trips or trips to outlying villages. He didn't want to let on that maybe he wasn't the plain moron he knew Arthur saw him as. Explaining his nightmares would mean explaining what he'd done and in turn explaining that he may be an extremely powerful sorcerer to someone who could very well have him executed. Merlin knew what optioned he'd stick with.

The only thing Merlin neglected was that Arthur occasionally was more perceptive than he counted on. Merlin had slept through the night without a problem for once. He was in cheerful spirits as he brought Arthur his breakfast and was more than a bit surprised to find the prince already awake and packing a satchel, though he hadn't bothered putting on a shirt. 

"Morning, Sire. Didn't think you could wake up at a decent hour without assistance," Merlin said in lieu of a proper greeting.

"Well, Merlin, I thought I might need to go ahead and pack my own bags since you'll be busy packing your own after breakfast," Arthur shot back without thinking.

Merlin set the tray of food on the table to avoid dropping it. "Pardon? You didn't tell me you were hunting today."

"Because we aren't. We're traveling to an outlying village. There has been word of some... trouble near the border with Nemeth. I doubt it’s more than hearsay, but I think it would be best to check it out and make an appearance. Air towards the side of caution." 

"That's two day's travel there. Don't see why I need to go."

Arthur closed the bag stuffed with his clothing and set it next to the foot of his bed. "You've been avoiding me. As much as you can. You've missed three hunting trips. I know you don't like the hunting, but you never shut up about the sky at night or the trees overhead. So you’re avoiding me for some reason.”

Merlin took a small intake of breath, trying to keep his face void of his shock. “I’ve just had a lot to help Gaius with.”

“Merlin, do you take me for a fool?”

“Of course not, sire. I’m certain you are.”

Arthur cracked a grin at that, grabbing a pillow off his bed and hurling at the raven-haired man. Merlin ducked just in time with a small laugh. He snatched the pillow off the ground, going over to put it back on the prince’s bed. He gave a huff, looking back to where Arthur had gone over to the tray of food on his table. Merlin shook his head and went over to Arthur’s wardrobe to pick the prince an outfit he could travel in comfortably. 

Frankly, being in charge of getting Arthur dressed was one of Merlin’s favorite chores as a servant to the prince. He would never dare say it, but he knew that he had eyes for Arthur. He blamed it partially on the ridiculous amount of time they spent together coupled with the neverending playful banter and the way Arthur smiled at him. Luckily, Merlin was fairly decent at keeping secrets by now, and this was far from the first thing he’d kept from Arthur. He could keep it a secret that he felt like Arthur hung the moon, and he could make sure the prince was wearing his favorite outfits time and time again. It really wasn’t a bad trade-off. He always preferred Arthur in darker reds than the true colors of Camelot, so that was the tunic he picked out for the day when Arthur interrupted his thoughts.

“You should probably head back to Gaius’. We will be leaving at noon, and I have no intention of leaving late at your expense,” he said between bites of sausage.

“Only once you're dressed. Sometimes I doubt your ability to get on by yourself.” Merlin shot the prince a toothy grin, but he inwardly knew he just didn’t need as much time as Arthur thought he did. 

He kept a bag packed with necessities under his bed at all times. Living under Uther’s rule and practicing more and more sorcery to keep Arthur safe meant he was in constant danger. He knew if anyone ever found him out he would scarcely have time to run. He wasn’t keen on having to run with absolutely nothing, so his bag stayed hidden away for if the worst case came to pass. Not that he would say that. He would just take his leave when Arthur was taken care of and spend his free time reading the book of spells he scarcely had time for.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even with his worries weighing him down, Merlin enjoys his trips with Arthur. Especially in the forest where his magic feels most alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two, featuring more anxiety, more pining, and just how in tune Merlin with is with nature. Also a lot of banter. Because the author loves sassy Arthur and even sassier Merlon.

Merlin checked his bag twice before going out to meet just before the sun was at its peak. He’d stuffed some medical supplies in one of the pockets in the bag, just on the off chance they needed it. When he made it to the front of the castle, Arthur already had his bags loaded on his horse, and he had a steed for Merlin waiting. Other than the castle guards, there was no one else around. No knights, like Merlin had assumed would be accompanying them. His expression fell to a brief shock before puzzlement. 

“Are we going alone?” He asked as he approached and loaded his bag onto his horse.

“I thought that would be obvious as there are only two horses here, _Merlin_ ,” Arthur said with a slight roll of his eyes before shooting Merlin an amused look.

Merlin gave a smile he wasn’t entirely sure of. He certainly didn’t feel too certain about having to be alone with Arthur for more than a day, but he’d keep up appearances. He had slept well the previous night, and he could simply offer to keep watch into the night. He wasn’t sure how far that would get him, but it was worth a shot.

Merlin snapped out of his daze when he heard Arthur mount his horse and followed suit himself. “You really think there’s a point to these claims? You’re not one to go wild goose chasing.”

“Better to make a trip for nothing than not to make a trip and be invaded,” Arthur responded, starting off at a decent pace towards the forest. 

Merlin followed at a bit of a distance. He didn’t want to chance running into Arthur whilst not paying attention. He had a habit of doing that in the forest. He got distracted by how very _alive_ everything was. Camelot was bustling with people and the occasional horse, yes, but all the iron and stone was stifling at times. All of the life was muffled. Merlin could feel the forest breath around him, and it had a habit of stealing the younger man’s mind away from him.

The further into the forest they got, the freer Merlin felt. As anxious as Merlin felt, he couldn’t be too bothered when he was under the canopy of leaves. It was easier to breathe, easier to smile. Merlin rolled his shoulders back, finally relaxing a bit. He blew out a heavy breath, feeling a weight lift off his chest. He knew it was temporary, but he no longer cared. 

“It has been far too long since you came riding with me,” Arthur said to break the silence. “It wasn’t the same without someone scaring off all the game.”

Merlin gave a pleasant hum, scanning the forest absently for squirrels and birds. “You know, you don’t have to hunt every animal you find. It wouldn’t hurt you to appreciate them once in a while.”

“Hunting keeps my senses sharp, and we use the meat. You can’t be such a girl, Merlin. Honestly. You wouldn’t last a day on your own.” Arthur slowed his mount to let Merlin side up next to him.

“Don’t be so quick to think that. I know enough herbs and edible plants to survive. You’d be the one out of luck if you got injured,” Merlin huffed before giving a bright grin to Arthur.

Arthur leaned towards Merlin enough to give him a light swipe across the shoulder. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you’re pompous.”

“Must you always have the last word?”

“Only as long as you’re a royal prat.” Merlin’s eyes crinkled with how bright he smiled at the familiar back-and-forth.

He kept a lot from Arthur, but he knew that Arthur meant the world to him. He had a million reasons he should’ve been on guard around Arthur, but Arthur was sometimes the only person who could make him feel better. Even when Arthur was the source of his problems- whether due to the prophecy or being enchanted- the prince could nearly always drag a smile out of him. Even the times he had been the reason Merlin had stopped smiling in the first place.

There were times when Merlin didn’t know if he wanted to wring Arthur’s neck or throw his arms around those strong shoulders hide there until he didn’t feel overwhelmed with being Emrys and in charge of keeping Arthur alive and staying out of the pyre and still somehow being a decent servant and good assistant to Gaius all the while not letting anyone know he was a sorcerer. Merlin felt like his life was a never-ending stack of ‘ands’ being added one-by-one atop his shoulders just waiting for him to buckle. A stack of ‘ands’ he couldn’t tell the people he was closest to about. Only Gaius knew about some of them, but he didn’t even know Merlin’s most protected secret of his affections toward the man he served.

He looked from the bright green trees to the shining blond of Arthur’s hair in the midday sun. He was sure the prince was the most unobservant person on the planet to never catch him staring. But then, how could Merlin not stare? Arthur was effortlessly handsome, and whether that was just his looks or thanks in part to the way he carried himself, Merlin didn’t know. As Merlin stared, Arthur stopped his horse in its tracks and raised his hand for Merlin to halt. Merlin stiffened, worried Arthur had heard some thieves. It wouldn’t be the first time they had been ambushed in this part of the woods. Not the first, second, or even third. Merlin was starting to worry that the woods here might be cursed.

Merlin was nearly praying to the gods that they weren’t ambushed. He didn’t want to be in charge of another well-timed branch. The emotional toll it took when he knew he had fatally crushed someone was eating at him, and he was almost certain that a new memory of thieves trapped beneath branches would only encourage more nightmares in the coming nights.

The rustling got closer, but from the underbrush only came a couple of large hares darting through the undergrowth. Merlin let out a bit of a breath as the hares darted across the path. 

“Damned,” Arthur breathed out. “If I would’ve had my crossbow in reach, we would’ve had our dinner.”

Merlin didn’t bother to hide the slight cringe. “We wouldn’t have eaten both of them, but just hunting one of them would’ve been separating mates. You can’t do that.”

“ _Merlin_ , they’re just animals. They can find other mates. Do you believe that two _wild animals_ are in love?” Arthur mocked.

“They might be,” Merlin muttered because he couldn’t say that he very much could feel that they were.

“Gods, Merlin, I knew you could be a girl, but I didn’t think you were a lovesick girl.” The teasing smile was audible in Arthur’s voice.

“I’m not lovesick, I just like animals. I don’t like the idea of them being lonely.”

“They’re hares. They’re not that smart. They’ll just find another hare and reproduce. Won’t even miss one.”

Merlin rolled his eyes at the ignorance, but he let the subject drop. He couldn’t keep arguing with Arthur when he teased like that. Besides, he was certain that Arthur would never be able to the way he felt towards animals. Arthur was a good man and a kind one, but he didn’t have the same all-encompassing compassion towards all animals. Arthur would always love his hunting dogs, but he would never feel the same adoration towards any animal that could remotely be game. 

Everything felt normal like this. He and Arthur riding and arguing about mundane things. Time passed without Merlin even taking notice. They had even stopped to snack on the few of the fruits Arthur had packed, and it had only felt like they had been riding an hour or so.

The first time he realized how long they’d been riding was when he realized the sun was streaking through the trees in a burning orange rather than gold. Merlin looked up at the sun, realizing how close to sunset it was, and his stomach made a twist. Merlin had been babbling for quite some time, but suddenly his mouth went dry. He couldn’t even remember _what_ he had been talking about, so he went silent suddenly.

Arthur sent a look over his shoulder with a puzzled frown before saying, “You can’t be tired already. We’ve still got daylight.”

“Oh- Sorry. I just realized how long it had been since we left,” Lying to Arthur could come second nature to him, but that didn’t mean that Merlin particularly enjoyed it.

“Just let us get another league into the woods, and we’ll stop. You get tired far too easily,” Arthur all but huffed.

Merlin rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath, “Not all of us have such a padded bottom.”

“Comments like that could be treason, Merlin.”

“We’re a bit far from the court to have me arrested.”

“We’ll get back eventually.”

For the moment, going back home for treason seemed to be the preferable option, if it meant he’d be sleeping alone and away from Arthur. Not that he would say that. So, he simply followed Arthur the final league before they would find a place to set up camp for the night.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur and Merlin set up camp. Merlin has a bit too much going on in his brain, and lying to Arthur has never been harder. Merlin finally must face the nighttime and his fear of sleeping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, I get to writing the prompt. Featuring: the scene that inspired this story in the first place. Author thrives on the validation of comments, criticism, and love.  
> Question of the Day: Is the author capable of doing any publishing of chapters before midnight, their time?  
> Absolutely not, because the author is a caffeine-fueled gremlin.

The clearing Arthur had chosen to set up camp was just near enough to a stream to where Merlin was sure they would hear it babbling through the night. Merlin didn’t mind it; he could nearly hear what it was trying to tell him. Arthur didn’t mind the stream because it would make it easy to fill their water skins and water the horses before they left in the morning. Merlin had set about setting out the bedrolls and starting up a fire- which was quite easy with dry twigs and magic. Arthur had gone off with his crossbow and a couple of bolts to find them some meat for dinner. Merlin could’ve done without that, but Arthur would never stop complaining if he didn’t have some meat with dinner.

The sun was just beginning to set when Arthur had left, but in his absence, it had already started turning purples and blues. Merlin had taken it upon himself to boil some water and put together the beginning of a stew. Along with the herbs that Merlin had brought, he’d found some violets and wild rosemary to add to the water. To be Frank, Merlin didn’t feel very hungry. His stomach was tied into more knots than one of Arthur’s looped snares, but he knew Arthur wouldn’t let him get away without eating, especially when he knew Merlin occasionally slipped food from his tray as it was. If Merlin didn’t eat, he knew Arthur would think something was wrong. For as thick-skulled as Arthur could be, he did pick up on things when it mattered.

Arthur arrived back to the camp after nightfall, which had concerned Merlin to the point of nearly going out to search for him. When he did finally return, it showed he had been late out of kindness. He’d skint and stripped the meat from the wild rabbit away from Merlin. Merlin assumed that was a mixture of their conversation about the mated hares and Arthur’s adamance that he’d been avoiding him. Arthur may not have been completely perceptive, but he certainly tried to fix the things that he did notice.

“Already got a stew going. Perhaps you can be useful on occasion,” Arthur said as he entered the small clearing with one his more genuine smiles.

“It’s remarks like that that make you a clotpole,” Merlin pointed out, stirring the stew.

Arthur only shook his head in response, dropping down next to the fire to cook the strips of meat before adding them to Merlin’s cauldron. Merlin’s stomach was already in knots, and meat was the last thing he wanted to ingest, and he was weighing options of how to get out of dinner. There was no foreseeable way to squirm out of this. For once, Merlin thought he certainly knew how small game felt in one of Arthur’s snares. He even got to stare his hunter in the eye as his fate was sealed. 

Once the soup was done, Merlin ladled portions into two bowls. He handed Arthur a bowl first, hoping the prince would be distracted enough not to notice making his own portion significantly smaller. He might not get away with skipping dinner, but if he was clever enough he could get away with not eating any more than he was willing to choke down. Silently, Merlin was praying to the gods that Arthur stayed silent through the meal. The gods decidedly had not heard his prayers.

“So, Merlin, are you going to tell me why you’ve been avoiding me, or are you going to pretend you haven’t a clue what I mean.”

It took everything Merlin had not to scowl into his half bowl of stew. “I’ve not been avoiding you. I’ve been spending more time with Gaius. Servant to you or not, I am still also his only apprentice.”

“You can use that excuse all you like, but you’ve never let your apprenticeship in the way of trips before. Especially not every single time I’ve asked for your accompaniment over the past month. I could have sacked you for each of those times.”

“Well, I decided that you wouldn’t truly miss me. Any of the knights could help you pack your horse, and I’m not particularly helpful. If you get attacked, I’m more in the way than anything.”

Arthur didn’t seem to like that answer, as he stared at Merlin for a few seconds longer than was comfortable with his mouth pressed into a firm line. Whatever little remained of Merlin’s appetite before had now dissipated entirely. The ball of nerves building up in his stomach was far more filling than any food anyways. Merlin set his bowl to the side before standing to go fetch his and Arthur’s bedrolls. It was a good way to make a hasty retreat without seeming like he was running away. 

He took his time undoing the rolls from the horses and laying them out. All the time in the world to keep his back to Arthur. He could feel the other watching him, but he hoped if he didn’t acknowledge it, the staring would stop. He laid the bedrolls some distance apart. In the fall and winter months, they slept nearly pressed against one another for warmth, but the spring they were experiencing now was more than warm enough to warrant space. Merlin was certainly grateful for that and decided that maybe the gods didn’t entirely hate him. He dawdled in smoothing out Arthur’s bed before finally relenting and turning towards Arthur. He knew the other hadn’t stopped staring, but when Merlin returned the gaze, Arthur didn’t comment and continued to eat his fill of dinner. 

When Arthur set his empty bowl aside, Merlin snatched both empty dishes up and announced he’d go wash them out. Anything to get away for a bit without suspicion. After he had rinsed the bowls, he knelt by the stream and splashed cool water onto his face. It was cold and shocking, bound to stave off his sleep at least for a bit. He waited a moment for the cool to sink into his skin before wiping his face with his neckerchief so Arthur wouldn’t have questions. He finally trodded back to the campsite after finding no more ways to waste time without being gone for a suspicious amount of time. After all, he couldn’t disappear to the tavern- as Gaius always said- when they were league and leagues from Camelot.

Arthur was getting comfortable to sleep when Merlin entered the campsite. Arthur’s eyes looked him over as if he wanted to question Merlin, but he found nothing to question.

Merlin decided to beat him to having the first word. “I’ll take the first watch tonight.”

Arthur didn’t look particularly impressed with the offer. “We’re on no beaten path, nor are we near a village in any direction. We don’t need a watch.”

“Just in case?” Merlin offered but wasn’t sure he believed his own voice.

“You’d be a terrible watch. You have no survival instincts. I would hear an approaching danger in my sleep faster than you would awake.”

“My apologies, sire. Not everyone is raised to be a deadly threat.”

“Go to  _ sleep _ , Merlin,” Arthur huffed, turning his back on the man. 

“Prat,” Merlin retorted, laying down only to appease the prince.

He had no plans to actually sleep. He thought it would be easier to ignore the tug of unconsciousness after getting a full night of sleep the previous night. His only explanation could be the gentle babbling of the stream nearby, the chirping of crickets and other night bugs, and the way the entire forest seemed to soothe his magic. It was a potent mixture. Before he could pull himself from the dredges of onsetting sleep, unconsciousness pulled him below its dark waves. 

Arthur awoke in the middle of the night to frightful cries, grabbing his sword from next to him on instinct and sitting straight up. His eyes scanned the clearing, now only illuminated by the half moon’s light and the dying embers of their fire, for any sort of threat. All he found was Merlin twisting around and jerking his head violently. He occasionally cried out half-enunciated phrases or words. Arthur caught his own name and ‘no’ being repeated over and over between the muttered phrases. It was a terrible sight, really. Merlin was always so chipper and cheery, or at the very least snarky and defiant, in the face of danger. Even knowing it was just a nightmare, Arthur felt a swirl of worry at seeing Merlin so distressed. 

Arthur slowly got up from his bedroll and went to kneel at Merlin’s shoulder. He’d never been good with comforting people, and there was something uncomfortable at having to wake someone up to comfort them. He’d lived with Morgana his entire life, so nightmares were nothing new to him. Morgana had had them since she was a child. The only difference was that she always wanted to be alone or only sought comfort in Uther. Arthur justified that by her closed-off nature and the doting his father did on her. Merlin wasn’t Morgana and was far more apt to want to be pulled out of whatever terror plagued him. He put a hand on the younger man’s shoulder, meaning to give him a light shake.

The moment Arthur had touched him, Merlin’s eyes shot open, glowing golden, and his hand came up flat to Arthur’s chest as he yelled, “ _ Ástrice _ !”

The prince was sent backward with a force that knocked him onto his back, and it was the thud of him hitting the ground that brought Merlin to full consciousness. The gold had had from his eyes, but his breathing was still labored while his whole body shook. The shock of what he had not only done but revealed turned his veins to ice. His self-preservation screamed at him to run, but his loyalty said to go and check on Arthur. The combination left him rooted to the spot. Even as Arthur sat up in a bit of a daze, Merlin’s body wouldn’t cooperate. His legs were jelly, and he knew getting to his feet was a hopeless fantasy. When Arthur turned wide, shocked eyes on him, Merlin could only shrink away in shame and fear.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the accidental attack. Merlin's emotions are all over the place in realization. Arthur is angry and not taking things well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An update in the middle of the day? It's more likely than you think.   
> Author is on a roll and methinks this is going to turn out a longer story than anticipated. I had a plot but characters decided to make their own decisions. I am not the creator of the world, just a vessel of the words.

Merlin had been in life-and-death situations since arriving in Camelot, and yet he had never before been so afraid as he was in the moments after Arthur had sat up. Arthur would surely hate him. He was very likely to kill him, too. He knew he should be filled with adrenaline and white-hot terror, but this fear was different. It was an all-encompassing numbness. He was staring at Arthur, unblinking. His eyes stung, and he wasn’t sure if he was tearing up or if tears had already sprung free. 

Arthur met his gaze with a studying look. Merlin wondered in the back of his mind if Arthur was looking for the easiest way to get his sword and behead Merlin on the spot. Whatever he was thinking, he was really considering. He could see the thought racing through Arthur’s eyes. 

“You attacked me,” Arthur finally said, the confusion in his voice only partially covering quiet anger. “With magic.”

Merlin’s mouth opened, and it took everything to croak out, “I didn’t intend to.”

“Magic, Merlin. It isn’t that you attacked me, it was that highly illegal,  _ treasonous,  _ thing you attacked me with.” Arthur had moved to stand now, body tense with an anger Merlin only saw on the battlefield or when outnumbered in an ambush.

“I was scared!” Merlin defended, numbness dissolving in the bubbling fear. “You can’t just shake someone awake like that.”   
  


Arthur took a step forward in response, mouth opening to speak, but he stopped when Merlin scrambled back so suddenly that his arms folded under him and sent him to the forest floor with a thud. Merlin propped up on his elbows, fingers digging into the dirt. Arthur stopped where he stood, but he still had that expression on his face that made Merlin feel like a training dummy about to be shredded.

“You lied to me,” Arthur said, voice low and quiet.

“I had to. I didn’t want to die,” Merlin responded in a tone one step away from pleading.

“You didn’t want to die, but you came straight to the heart of Camelot.”

Merlin didn’t hide the indignant flare that knitted his brows. “I needed somewhere better than Ealdor. Gaius is all we had.”

“Somewhere better- Do you think I’m not onto you, sorcerer? Play innocent idiot, get right up next to the prince. What have you been waiting for? Me to take the throne?” Arthur’s face was stone and his voice ice, and Merlin would’ve done anything for him to scream instead.

“Do you really think so little of me?” Merlin asked, feeling like he’d been punched in the gut. “I’d never harm or enchant you.”

Merlin could handle being yelled at by Arthur, it happened practically daily. This was infinitely more terrible. Arthur had only been so cold in sentencing men he had no sympathy for. Merlin felt his entire body trembling. It was equal parts anger and fear. He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling a fresh wave of burning tears well over and spill. Merlin hated letting his emotions run rampant like this. It didn’t feel like so long ago when Arthur had told him that no man was worth his tears. Merlin begged to disagree; Arthur was worth his tears.

The emotions beating with the frantic pattern of his heart were beginning to be too much. He could feel his magic bleeding into the ground where his hands were digging the dirt. It was supposed to be grounding, but he wanted nothing more than his magic to not take his attention right now. Merlin’s breathing began to pick up, and with it, a breeze picked up out of nowhere. 

It must have caught Arthur off guard, too, as he looked to the sky for any sign of a storm. Merlin felt a flare of anger at his ruining of the weather. He knew he wasn’t completely in control currently, and his magic was releasing in its own way along with the magic of the forest. Merlin’s anger presented itself as a roll of thunder despite no cloud visible through the canopy of trees. His tears, which were silent but still rolling made for a barely-there drizzle. Merlin looked back to Arthur, who had returned his gaze to Merlin. Merlin only wished the other would lose the look as if he suddenly saw Merlin as a common traitor.

Despite the tears still rolling down his cheeks, Merlin’s voice held steady and certain when he spoke. “You’re going to have me killed.”

“You knowingly practiced magic under my nose. In my father’s court,” Arthur said plainly.

“I don’t use it recklessly. Or against you.” Merlin’s tears were drying on his cheeks as his resolve settled in his chest and the light drizzle subsided. “You know nothing.”

“I know you threaten Camelot and everything it stands for.”

“I’ve had magic the entire time you’ve known me. If I were a threat to you, don’t you think I wouldn’t have waited for years? Do you think I would let you throw goblets at my head?”

Arthur moved toward his bedroll and, in turn, his sword, but Merlin didn’t move. His fear had settled into resignation. He sat up, watching Arthur with a calm gaze. His panic had swelled back to numbness, though his breathing was still fast enough to betray his hammering heart. The wind gave a particularly loud howl when Merlin’s shoulders sank and the air rushed from his lungs. Arthur grabbed the sword from the ground by his bedroll. Merlin gave a shake off his head, moving to get his bedroll put back on his horse.

“What are you doing?” Arthur asked in a tone more accusatory than curious.

“Putting my bedroll up. I certainly won’t be sleeping again.”

“Then neither will I. I won’t be sleeping around a sorcerer.”

Merlin’s face flashed annoyance to cover the painful jab of Arthur’s distrust. “Don’t be conceited. I’m not going to attack you in your sleep. I just don’t want another nightmare.”

Arthur gave a sharp huff through his nose. “What does something like you have to be that frightened of. Certainly, you could just enchant your problems away.”

Merlin threw the bedroll to the ground, the final straw of Arthur’s words. He whirled around to face the man. His face twisted into an image of anger and hurt. 

“You really are an absolute moron. Take more than a minute to think for once, Arthur. Why would I stay in Camelot- Gods, why would I stay in the service of a man who has repeatedly told me how he doesn’t trust magic? Certainly, there had to be something, or are you too thick to comprehend that?” Merlin hissed out, a loud crack of thunder sounding as if to punctuate his words.

Arthur’s hand tightened around his sword. “You will watch your tone when speaking to the man who determines your fate, sorcerer.”   
  


“Damn you, Arthur,” Merlin said, voice losing the anger out to exasperation. “Do you know how many times I’ve saved you? How many times I’ve used  _ magic _ to save you. I’ve lost count. Would you like a short list? Valiant, the griffin, the wraith, the questing beast, Sigan- oh- and that time your father married a literal troll. That’s just a few.”

While Arthur’s face didn’t give him away, his eyes flickered with something other than malice.

Merlin moved to drop to the ground among the roots of a large tree at the edge of the clearing. “Before I came to Camelot, I’d never killed anyone. I hate violence and hurting people. Now, I- I don’t know how much blood is on my hands. I don’t kill for my own benefit. I only protect people.”

Arthur set his sword aside, a pitying look crossing his face before his expression turning cold again. “You won’t be softening me. I’ve no way to tell if you’re lying.”

“You don’t trust me.”

“I don’t trust sorcerers.”

Merlin’s eyebrows furrowed in frustration. “Who am I, Arthur?”

“A liar and traitor to the crown- to me.”

“No,” Merlin pressed. “Who am I to you?”

“A horrible servant and criminal who spent years under my nose,” Arthur fired back, moving to prod at the dead embers of their fire.

“I’m Merlin. I am a terrible servant, and I’ve never put up with your moods. I’ve been loyal to you. I never betrayed you. I kept myself from you for your own benefit.”

“My own benefit. You certainly think you know what’s best for me.” Arthur said dully as he laid back on his bedroll.

“More than you know.”

Arthur gave a deep frown, settling where he could face Merlin. “Don’t run off in the night. I’ve not made up my mind about killing you once we return to Camelot. I plan on questioning you. Just once dawn arrives. Not in the dead of night."


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin is tired and isn't looking forward to confrontation. Arthur is equal parts betrayed and unwilling to let his manservant slip away so easily. It isn't easy, but Arthur will be damned if he doesn't get his answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got carried away with writing this. My previous chapters haven't exceeded 1,800 words, but this one is pushing just past 2,100. I'm proud, and I feel like I've got a lot more to put our boys through.

Merlin didn’t sleep for the rest of the night. He sat against the large tree, staring into the dark forest blankly. He loaded his bedroll back onto their horses and wandered the near woods. He was beyond exhausted and emotionally drained between the anger and hurt, but he didn’t dare sleep again. He only feared the images his mind would supply this time. When the first light of dawn colored the sky, he went to the stream. He knelt and gathered water in his hand, splashing it in his face. The water was shocking and cold, snapping him from the half-conscious daze he’d lived in since Arthur had gone back to sleep. He stared into the clear water moving at a lazy pace. Merlin sank his hands to the bottom of the shallow water staring down. He knew he probably needed to get back to the campsite before Arthur awoke, but he couldn’t find the motivation to move.

It was only a few minutes when he heard his name being yelled from the clearing. It jolted him to his feet. He didn’t want to face Arthur now. He’s had hours to think not only about what he would say, but what he had said the previous night when he was fairly panicked. He hauled himself to his feet, trudging back to the campsite. Arthur was peering through the trees when Merlin emerged. He stopped just inside the ring of trees, not approaching the prince. Arthur seemed to startle a bit when he turned around and saw Merlin standing on the other side of the clearing.

“Thought you had been stupid and ran,” Arthur said, looking him over suspiciously. “You’re wet.”

Perhaps Merlin hadn’t been exactly careful when he was at the stream, hair sticking to his forehead and the front of his shirt and neckerchief soaked. “Needed to stay alert.”

The short response was uncharacteristic of Merlin, but he didn’t have it in him to speak to Arthur as if things were normal. Merlin doubted they would ever be normal again, assuming he made it more than a few days with his head still attached or out of the pyre. He was too tired to pretend things were even close to alright, too. He hadn’t checked his reflection, but he was sure his eyes were surrounded by the ugly purple that showed his missing rest. 

“Come here,” Arthur ordered, not looking at Merlin as he was focused on cooking another few strips of rabbit for breakfast.

Merlin moved forward with slow steps, sizing Arthur carefully and keeping a generous distance between them. Merlin may not have had battle training, but he was sharp enough to judge the length of a man’s arm and the reach of a sword. This didn’t seem to please Arthur as the prince stared daggers through Merlin.

“I’m not going to strike you.”

Merlin tensed his jaw, defensiveness flaring in his chest. “You could do much more now and feel little remorse.”

“I do have a code I follow, you know.”

Merlin did know all about Arthur’s code of ethics, but he severely doubted they would necessarily matter as far from Camelot as they were. Alone. Especially alone, Merlin realized. He had nowhere to even attempt to hide. Merlin’s eyes were drawn to his horse. He certainly couldn’t outride Arthur on a path, but his instincts could gain him a fair head start if he weaved through the thicker underbrush. 

A heavy silence fell through the clearing, only permeated by the crackling of the fire as Arthur heated strips of meat. Merlin hadn’t been hungry last night, but now he certainly knew he’d be sick if he choked anything down. He assumed now Arthur wouldn’t mind if he avoided the strips of rabbit.

“How long?” Arthur asked pointedly, startling Merlin after the several terrible minutes of silence.

“How long?” Merlin echoed, uncertainty edging into his voice.

“How long have you practiced magic? When did you learn?”

“I never learned it. It’s always been there,” Merlin answered. If he was to face his death anyways, he wanted to at least do so with nothing weighing his shoulders down. He knew for a fact this may be his last and only chance to be himself with Arthur, and he wasn’t going to spend his last conversation cowering. 

“You were born with it?” Arthur asked, nose scrunching up in a way Merlin had always liked before now- a way that said he wasn’t able to grasp a concept. “That’s ridiculous. I’ve never heard of a person  _ born _ with magic.”

“It’s because I’m not a sorcerer. The- uh- I’m a warlock. Small difference,” Merlin said, looking away when he realized all he noticed about Arthur in the small moment. 

Arthur regarded him for a moment, before setting aside a couple of strips of the rabbit and an apple from the bag sitting close behind him. He looked expectant, but Merlin didn’t move forward. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust the food, rather that he was sure he wouldn’t be able to keep it down, not even a single bite. Merlin couldn’t find the words to say so, so he shook his head mutely. Any other time he could imagine Arthur laughing about how Merlin was always hungry or never settled for nonverbal answers, but this was no longer normal circumstances, and there never would be normal circumstances between them again. Of that, Merlin had no doubts. 

  
  


Arthur’s voice brought him back from his thoughts. “Born with it. You’re certain? Was it a curse?” The question was nearly innocent as if he could dismiss Merlin being this way if he were only the victim of an unfortunate curse.

Merlin could only sigh in a bout of frustration, moving back to the edge of the clearing and sitting against one of the thick oak trees. “It wasn’t an accident. My mother said I was levitating things before I could speak, so I certainly wasn’t saying spells. No one in our village had magic other than me, and my mother was certainly never cursed.”

Arthur seemed frustrated with Merlin’s retreat but only responded with, “Why aren’t you eating?”

“Not hungry.” Merlin didn’t meet his eyes. “I’m just not in the mood.”

“You have to be hungry. You scarcely ate last night, either,” Arthur pressed, his voice sounding more like his normal frustration with Merlin and less like the cold accuser he had been last night.

“Didn’t feel like eating,” Merlin responded, a bit petulant. This was an uncommon argument, but the tone felt familiar. Usually, Arthur was complaining that Merlin was thinking too much about food and  _ how  _ he could be hungry with the way he could eat sometimes. He finally looked up to meet Arthur’s eyes and was surprised by their intensity. Arthur was studying him the same way he studied battle maps or new decrees for Camelot. 

“You’ve never used your magic against Camelot?” He asked after having apparently finished reading Merlin like a roll of parchment. “You… mentioned having saved me.”

“Time and time again,” Merlin nearly whispered, the wave of exhaustion making his entire body feel unbearably heavy.

“You’ve always been a terrible liar.”

Those words set Merlin’s heart hammering in his heart with the words being said so plainly. “I did. I have saved you. Arthur, come on-” He was shaken only because he thought he’d been making progress, getting through. Arthur had started sounding more curious and soft rather than ready to execute Merlin without hesitation. Not that Merlin feared the execution. He could likely get away, but he didn’t want to betray Arthur again. 

Arthur raised a gloved hand to shut Merlin up, moving a few steps close and causing Merlin to tense up as if he would spring out of the way if Arthur came any closer. “Let me finish. You have always been a terrible liar, and you aren’t stupid enough to make false claims that you’ve saved me.”

Merlin didn’t speak for a moment, letting Arthur’s words hang in the air. “I’m not that terrible at lying. I kept that from you for years.”

“Look how that turned out for you.” Arthur’s expression was equal parts bitter and pitying.

Merlin’s hand twitched by his side, curling into a first. “Not like I could’ve told you. I couldn’t tell you when I first became your servant, and the longer I was around the harder it became. Can you really blame me?” He pushed himself off the ground, shaking his head against the way everything went fuzzy for a moment. His eyes stung from the lack of sleep, but he pushed on. Arthur hadn’t responded, so Merlin assumed he had nothing to say.

He didn’t look at Arthur as he went to his horse. He stroked her mane for a few thoughtful moments before removing his bag off her. He checked its contents slowly, making sure he had everything of his. He was missing a few articles of clothing he would like to have kept- all things he had acquired after going to Camelot, but he had his necessities. 

“What are you looking for?” Arthur asked as he approached the other man.

Merlin shot Arthur a sharp look at the question. “Are you going to knowingly allow a sorcerer to return with you? I’ll accompany you to the border, but I can go to Ealdor after that.”

“Ealdor is a further in the opposite direction than returning to Camelot would be,” Arthur said, incredulous. “You can’t make it that far on your own with just that bag.”

A dry laugh escaped Merlin. “I could make it home and further. I’ve planned this before. I’ve kept my bag packed since coming to Camelot. I knew if I was ever found out, I wouldn’t have time to pack.”

Arthur’s brows furrowed and his expression tightened. “You always expected to run?”

“You’re incredibly thick. I had to have a plan. I was always having to use magic to protect you. I was close to getting caught more than once. I wouldn’t be afraid to die for you, but I will not die by execution at your father’s hand if I can help it.”

“You’re far too comfortable with death. You say it so casually.”

“I’ve seen my share since serving you. I’ve  _ killed people,  _ Arthur. I hate it, but death doesn’t bother me anymore.”

Arthur moved a bit closer, and Merlin held his ground this time, only moving to shoulder his bag. Arthur let his shoulders sink a bit, seemingly to appear more docile. Merlin had seen Arthur softened like this before when he was dealing with frightful maidens in need of help. Merlin didn’t know whether to be offended that Arthur thought him weak or relieved that he was trying to ease Merlin’s nerves. “I can’t see you killing someone,” he said softly.

The breath that left Merlin took a lot of his defenses with it, his shoulders dropping in tired defeat. “There was a time when I couldn’t imagine myself killing anyone. Things change.”

“Put your bag up, Merlin. You’re not leaving.”

“Are you going to stop me?” Merlin’s hand tightened around the strap of his bag as he met Arthur’s gaze.

Arthur’s eyes had a determined gleam Merlin was more than familiar with- the same gleam that said he wasn’t about to back down from a challenge. “If I have to. I don’t know what I’m going to do with a- warlock? On my hands, but I’m not going to execute my manservant.”

“At what cost? You have conditions, I know,” Merlin all but accused. 

“I’m within reason to be suspicious of you. I need time to adjust to the thought of you having  _ magic.  _ I’ll have questions. I expect cooperation. Whatever you do, don’t be so stupid with it when we’re home. It took you less than a night to more than condemn yourself, and I know I’m more forgiving than my father or the people that report directly to him.”

Merlin contemplated the conditions before sliding the bag off his shoulder and putting it back on his horse. He couldn’t bring himself to verbalize his agreement, but Arthur seemed to understand as he simply mounted his horse. “We need to make up for the daylight we’ve lost. Come on.”

As they rode off, Merlin was more cautious at the distance he kept between them. Arthur would have the day’s ride to think on if he would really forgive Merlin’s ‘traitorous’ magic, and Merlin wasn’t going to let himself relax just yet. Merlin felt awful at being so suspicious of a man he looked up to and believed to have a good heart, so he soothed his guilt by blaming his paranoia on the lack of sleep affecting his judgment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are definitely a few chapters away from any sort of ending. We haven't even dealt with the entire problem of Merlin's nightmares. ANd why he attacked Arthur. And how he feels. And how they're going to spend another few days alone with each other. Wow, they've got quite a lot to go through still.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin and Arthur traveling together has never been so wrong. Merlin is far better at aversion than he should be. Arthur is damn good with charming everyone he meets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all I am so so sorry for up and disappearing for a few months. First, my laptop stopped working, and then I went into a really bad mental health place that I've only just gotten out of. I don't plan on just dipping again. I feel really inspired again, and I still have a lot of feelings and ideas for this story. To everyone who came back after so long, thank you guys so much for sticking with me. You are all the best.

Merlin had been conversational the previous day, but now he couldn’t even come up with a single word that wouldn’t feel heavy or uncomfortable to say. Luckily, it didn’t seem Arthur was exceedingly eager to break the silence either. So, Merlin looked around the forest. If nothing else, the forest’s magic was still reaching out at him. He may have been exhausted, but the forest air and greenery breathed life into him.

Arthur was looking back at him every so often, and Merlin knew it was to check he hadn’t run off. It didn’t stop it from being alarming when Merlin's mind wandered and his eyes unfocused, only to snap back to reality and meet Arthur’s sharp gaze trying to unravel him. Merlin’s magic felt like it had wrapped itself around him like a suit of armor, though it wasn’t actually shielding him. Nonetheless, just the weight of his magic was a comfort. 

The sun had slipped past midday when Arthur finally broke the silence. “You’re too quiet. I don’t like it.”

Merlin shrugged, looking down at the reins in his hands. “I’ve got nothing to say.”

Arthur slowed his horse, waiting for Merlin to gain on him a bit, so he didn’t have to crane his neck to speak. “You always have something to say.”

Merlin led his horse to the edge of the path, more than arm’s length from Arthur. “I have a lot to think about. I don’t feel like speaking.”

Arthur made a soft noise of frustration as Merlin pulled away on his horse. “You’re not making this easier. I do want to trust you, but you’re acting like a criminal.”

Merlin wasn’t sure if it was frustration with his secrets being laid bare just the night before or the fact that he hadn’t slept that caused him to snap, “I’m not sure if you want to trust me or you just want to interrogate until you can justify my existence. Not as though you really get a say in the second one.”

“Justifying your existence? You think that’s what this is about?”

“That or deciding whether or not I deserve to live.”

The look that crossed Arthur’s face normally would’ve made Merlin hesitate in his action, but he steeled his nerves and forced his eyes back to the forest around them. Between the lack of sleep and the lack of food due to his anxieties, Merlin’s temperament was far sharper than he normally allowed. Even on his worst days, Merlin at least tried to rein in his attitude a bit. Today, it didn’t feel worth it. Though Merlin couldn’t tell why Arthur did back off his questioning and trying to get Merlin to converse. There was relief in that, and Merlin took a deep breath to further close in his magic protectively around him, building more walls around himself. With his heavy exhale, the forest seemed to breathe with him, a wind whistling through the trees at their back.

With around a half day’s ride left, Merlin could reflect a bit on the night before. Gods, he had  _ cried.  _ Not only had he cried, but he had cried in front of Arthur. Arthur thought crying in front of others when not mourning was an unforgivable weakness unless it was a woman. Merlin had always hated that, but he had gotten better about it in Camelot. He could count on one hand the number of times he had freely cried in front of Arthur. Adding last night made him feel sick. He would often cry when he woke from nightmares, but it was always quietly while curled up in his bed. It was rare that he cried for very long, but last night he had cried and pleaded with Arthur. A display of weakness that he was sure Arthur had taken notice of. In another situation, Arthur surely would’ve called him a girl and teased him relentlessly, but there was no teasing today.

The more Merlin thought about it, he wasn’t as upset by the crying; he hated how Arthur had been able to completely ignore it in favor of making accusations of Merlin being evil. Arthur could so easily warp him into an enemy and back into a victim with the change of the wind. Arthur had been so quick to threaten his life and just as quick to dismiss him back to a bumbling idiot. It was frustrating. To call him a traitor and criminal with one breath and in the next to ask him not to run. 

His hands tightened around the reins of his horse, and it snapped him back to the present. The same present where he wouldn’t talk to Arthur, felt like he was awaiting execution, and had essentially lost his best friend. He looked at Arthur, who he’d let get a horse-length between them. He had told Arthur he had nothing to say, but it wasn’t that. He had too many things to say without a shred of belief he’d get through to Arthur. As if he could hear Merlin’s thoughts or feel his eyes burning through him, he turned to meet Merlin’s gaze.

“You can’t stare at me like that if you aren’t going to speak,” Arthur warned, though it sounded very much like an invitation for Merlin.

“Do you even want to hear what I have to say?” Merlin asked with a sharper tone than perhaps he should’ve.

“You can’t make your situation much worse as it stands.” Arthur’s eyes had softened in a way that should’ve disarmed Merlin. Merlin had seen that look before, and it always opened up him up in a way no one else could. It didn’t sit well today, and Merlin had already built up more walls than he would let Arthur through.

“I think you’d be surprised. I’ve always been too good at making situations worse.” The joke fell flat from Merlin’s lips. “I’m tired, Arthur. Too tired to defend myself or make anything better.”

“I don’t like you being so serious, Merlin. You act as though you’re being walked to the gallows.” Arthur’s voice was almost apologetic, especially for being someone who never apologized.

Merlin ignored the tone, glancing up at how the sun had moved and asked, “How far till Araise?”

Arthur’s soft expression was wiped away. “Should only be a league or so. We’re just west of Nemeton.”

The league passed in a long lapse of quiet, and the village came into sight. There were a lot of thatched roofs, but some were made of sturdier materials. It was an outlying village, but it was better sustained than most. Certainly better off than Ealdor. There were fields around the edge of the village, and the tavern and inn were well-maintained buildings, not a barn with an empty loft. The town is quiet for one rumored to have unrest. The thought of their trip being for nothing more than hear-say makes Merlin want to be sick. His entire life on the line for nothing. Actual nothing.

When they made it to the area that was almost big enough to be considered a town square, people stop and look at them. Arthur is wearing his armor and the crest of Camelot. They certainly were drawing attention, so Merlin kept his distance and tried not to look miserable. He couldn’t look like a miserable servant because that shone negatively on Arthur. Even if he couldn’t trust Arthur, he wanted the people to trust him. He still believed in Arthur being better for Camelot, even if Arthur couldn’t be safe for him. Arthur had dismounted his horse and Merlin followed, moving closer to Arthur for the first time all day only to retreat as soon as he had the reins of Arthur’s horse.

Merlin watched Arthur with a softness he was almost afraid to have. Arthur was charming, and his smile dazzled everyone in the village. A visit from the prince was rare, and many of the townspeople had been worried about trouble. Arthur had quelled the fear, being the kind and compassionate knight that could find out anything he needed with just smooth words. Merlin had encountered this side of Arthur before. As much as it was for appearances, there was a genuine side to it. Arthur, as much of a spoiled prat as he could be, had one of the kindest hearts Merlin had ever seen. After the awful morning and the even worse night before, it was nice not to be the focus of Arthur’s attention and even nicer to see the side of him that reminded Merlin why he had stayed in the dangers of Camelot for so long. It certainly wasn’t the cryptic words of Kilgharrah laughing at him when he asked for help.

Merlin couldn’t just stand around and watch Arthur for the rest of the afternoon. After a short time, Arthur moved to the edge of the crowd and asked a woman in an apron where he might find food and water for the prince’s horse. She pulled a boy who couldn’t have been more than fourteen and sent them both to go make sure the horses were tended. 

The boy, who introduced himself as Pellam, led Merlin to a barn passed the market place, offering a stall for both horses, should they stay the night. He offered to aid Merlin in caring for the horse, but Merlin turned him down and just asked where the feed and water were.

“You look like you need water more than the horse,” Pellam observed, moving to get a bucket from next to a shelf. “There’s a well around back.”

Merlin looked up from where he had taken a brush to Arthur’s horse. “I’m fine, really. It’s just been a long ride.”

The boy cocked his head, “You’re tired.”

Merlin stopped his brushing entirely, caught off guard by the bluntness. “I am, but I didn’t think it was that obvious.”

“You look like my dad when he came back from the border skirmish. It’s a different tired,” Pellam said, more insistent.

Merlin pressed his lips together for a minute. He didn’t want to make the citadel or Arthur seem unsafe. “I’m from an outlying village, too. I saw a lot of raids when I was younger. I know what the tired is. We’d just heard rumors about that. I was worried.”

The teen didn’t seem to believe him, but he left to go get water. If a stranger could see the exhaustion eating him away, he wondered what Arthur could see in him. When Pellam returned with the bucket, he filled the water trough silently and looked at Merlin for a long few seconds before headed back out of the stable. Merlin appreciated the silence and being completely alone and away from Arthur finally.

He took his time brushing both horses and cleaning their hooves until the sky darkened. He didn’t plan on going to the inn for a while, or maybe he could spend all night in the barn in some pile of hay. He glanced at the sky, seeing the purple turning to deep navy. It was almost too dark to see and he didn’t have a lamp or candle. He didn’t make a move to leave, instead opting to stand next to his horse and run his fingers through her mane. 

He heard the footsteps and knew who they belonged to before Arthur even said his name.

“Merlin,” Arthur called, approaching the stall. “Are you going to spend the night with the horses, or are you going to be sensible and come to the inn? I’ve already got our room.”

Merlin kept his back to Arthur, jaw tensing as he considered the words. His head twitched up after a moment. “ _ Our _ room?”

“I can’t have people thinking my servant is off doing whatever he pleases. A prince should keep his servants close in strange places, and I want to keep an eye on you,” Arthur admitted, stopping a few feet from Merlin.

Merlin sighed, his tense shoulders sinking when he knew he’d not get anywhere by arguing or causing a scene in a town that had been so enamored with the prince. “Fine. Watch me through the night again. You should know I’m not stupid enough to use magic in front of you again. I won’t make that mistake again.”

He gave the mare one last pat on the neck before moving out of the stall and putting a few feet of distance between them. Arthur could watch him, he couldn’t change that, but he wouldn’t get close enough for Arthur to touch.


End file.
